


The Not-Date Date

by afteriwake



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-11 23:46:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4457123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock wants to cheer Molly up while she's stuck at Baker Street while Moriarty is on the loose, and unknowingly sets up the perfect movie marathon date without intending to. What happens when Molly asks if it's actually a date, though?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Not-Date Date

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my second story written for an anonymous request for Sherlolly fluff last night! This one answered a prompt I found on a post of friendship to romance prompts by Tumblr user **hcfflepuff** ( _hey you’ve had a rough day so let’s get in our PJs and watch a cute movie together and cuddle bUT IT’S TOTALLY PLATONIC ALRIGHT_ , even if the movie isn't cute) .

He knew she was not happy about having to give up her home and move into Baker Street. He knew she was not happy that there had been such considerable strain put on her social life, where any plans she wanted to make had to be vetted with Mycroft and security had to be in place and everyone who was going to be in attendance, at least as far as they were able to plan ahead, had to have thorough background checks run on them and pass before she was allowed to go. And she bearing up remarkably well under all of the restrictions placed upon her.

But he could see that she was going to snap.

And soon.

He had consulted with John and with Mary. He couldn’t ease any of the restrictions; they were imposed on John and Mary and Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson as well, for as long as Moriarty was roaming the countryside. But he could attempt to alleviate another long night spent at Baker Street with just him for company. And so he had spent the entire day planning the perfect movie night for her. He got all of her favorite films, the ones that made him roll his eyes and want to gag as he looked at them. He procured all of her favorite snacks she would normally get at the cinema. He got popcorn. He got her favorite drinks. He had even gotten, with Mary’s help, a pair of pyjamas that Molly might appreciate and some decidedly tacky slippers to go with them.

He just hoped she liked it all.

He could hear the car pulling up to Baker Street and he glanced out the window. The takeaway had arrived ten minutes earlier so it was still hot, which meant he timed it well. He saw Molly get out once the driver opened the door, her shoulders slumped. Yes, it had probably been a very long and frustrating day for her. She trudged her way to the front door as the driver kept a watchful eye and when it opened he spoke. “Come up to the sitting room,” he called out.

“Unless there’s a huge bottle of wine with my name on it I don’t want to,” she called back.

“Night Harvest John George Cabernet Sauvignon, Margaret River, Australia 2010,” he said in response. There was a pause, and then after a moment he heard her come up the stairs slowly. When she came within the doorway he came over to her, glass of wine in hand. “There’s also Tod Man Pla and Duck Pad Kraprow for dinner, and I have a selection of your favorite films waiting for you, as well as an assortment of your favorite snacks while watching films.”

She almost looked as though she was going to cry. “You really didn’t have to,” she said.

He gave her a small smile. “I just wanted you to have a good evening, for once. I know all of this is hard on you.”

She leaned over and kissed his cheek softly. “Thank you, Sherlock.”

“You’re welcome,” he said. “As there are quite a few films and tomorrow is your day off, Mary thought it might be best if you lounged in your pyjamas, and we both thought it best if you got a new pair.” He went to the chair she had claimed as hers now, the chair that had once belonged to John, and picked up the bag on it. He handed it to her as she handed him her wine and watched her pull out the tissue paper and pull out the pyjama top. “Mary thought you would appreciate the kittens.”

“Oh, I do,” she said, giving him a smile. 

“And,” he said, going back to the chair, “there are cat shaped slippers, which Mary thought might also amuse you.”

“I like them quite a bit,” she said. She bundled the bag and the slippers in her arm. “I’ll take these to my room and go change into them.”

“And I’ll change into my pyjamas as well, if you want me to join you,” he said.

“Are you sure you want to watch the movies I like?” she asked uncertainly.

“I think I can handle an evening of sappy romantic movies,” he said.

“Actually, considering the day I’ve had, I was thinking of watching the Die Hard quintet,” she said. “I have all of them in my room."

“Oh thank God,” he said quietly and she giggled at that. “I had hoped you would prefer to watch something that wasn’t romantic.”

“Then today is your lucky day, I suppose,” she said. She held up the pyjamas and slippers. “Let me go change and I’ll be right back, all right?”

He nodded. “All right.” He watched her go and then went to his own bedroom. He quickly changed out of his shirt and trousers, depositing them into his laundry hamper, and then changed into his pyjamas and dressing gown. It didn’t take him very long, and he was done before Molly, so he went back to the sitting room and began pulling their dinners and her wine over to the sofa. She came down five minutes later, just in her pyjamas and slippers, carrying the DVDs. He’d seen her like that countless times, and he gave her a nod. “They fit well.”

“Hopefully I won’t get cold,” she said. “I didn’t feel like bringing my robe.”

“Well, there’s the quilt on the sofa,” he said, nodding to it. “So. Do you want plates or takeaway containers?”

“Containers. Less to clean up later,” she said. She set the DVDs by the player and then put the first movie in. Sherlock set her containers by her side of the sofa, then took his by his side, picking a fork off the table and beginning to eat. Molly joined him a moment later. “Thank you for this, Sherlock. It means a lot.”

“I want to try and make you smile as often as I can,” he said as he jabbed at his food. “I don’t like seeing you look sad.”

“I know,” she said with a sigh. “But I can’t help it. I’m beginning to lose friends because of the scrutiny they’re under. And I hate having my life so micromanaged all the time.” She leaned over and picked up a fork. “I have no idea how you were able to handle it.”

“Years of experience,” he said drily. He ate some of his food. “I’m working on the Moriarty problem as much as I can. But I want to keep you safe. I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you, especially if I could prevent it. You mean a great deal to me.”

“Well, I’m your friend,” she said with a smile.

“Yes,” he said quietly. “A friend.” But it was more than that, he realized. He just didn’t know how to go about telling _her_ that. But she turned away, turning her attention to the movie, and soon they were caught up in the adventure of John McClane at Nakatomi Towers. The movie was almost in the middle when Molly moved closer to him. “Cold?” he asked.

“A little,” she said.

He reached behind them and got the quilt off the back of the sofa and draped it over the two of them. She moved closer until she was leaning on him, relaxing against him. He liked this position, he decided. He liked it very much. Every once in a while she would move to sip more of her wine, but generally they stayed close. Finally the movie ended and Molly moved away from him to put the second movie in. With some reluctance, it seemed.

“I have snacks for you,” he said. “Mostly chocolate and popcorn.”

“Popcorn sounds nice,” she said with a smile. He went into the kitchen and got the bowl that had been popped earlier, bringing it back to the sofa just as she finished switching DVDs. They got settled again and this time Molly was leaning against him more so they could share the bowl better. After a moment he draped his arm around her shoulder. “Sherlock?” she asked as the movie started.

“Yes?” he asked.

“Do you…I mean, would this…?” she began, and then sighed. “Never mind.”

“What?” he asked slowly.

“This almost seems like a date,” she said quietly.

“Oh,” he said. Truth be told, he wouldn't mind if it actually _was_ a date. He cared for Molly, in a way that was different and perhaps more special than he cared for everyone else, in a way that could be construed as romantic. But it didn't appear as though she had harbored romantic feelings for him anymore, so he let his own feelings lay dormant. Perhaps he had made a mistake in setting all of this up. “That wasn’t my intention, and I’m sorry if it came off that way.”

“No, it’s not that,” she said, turning to face him. Her eyes were wide. “I just…I thought if maybe _you_ thought it was a date and _I_ thought it was a date we could maybe…snuggle a little bit more? I mean, sit closer? If you wanted to, I mean. But you don’t think it was a date, so—”

He cut her off by sitting up, putting the bowl of popcorn on the table, and pulling her closer to him. She gave him a wide smile and then reached over for the bowl of popcorn before settling in against him. He relaxed a bit more and turned his attention towards the movie. He wasn’t entirely sure what else this evening would lead to, but if it started with this, he was quite eager to find out.


End file.
